


Looking Glass

by SmokeAndPotato



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Mating Bites, Mating Bond, Porn With Plot, Reader-Insert, Slow Burn, Veela Draco Malfoy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-20
Updated: 2020-09-20
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:01:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26564779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SmokeAndPotato/pseuds/SmokeAndPotato
Summary: You’re a lawyer on the rise. All you want is to beat your coworker, Claudia, to partner at your law firm. When a smell causes you to pass out one night, you never would have dreamed where you woke up: in Hermione Granger’s body!How did that happen? What’s wrong with Draco? Can you get back to your body? Magic is REAL??Mildly dark Draco x Hermione (reader) slow burn.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Reader, Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Kudos: 17





	1. Beginnings

Your leg bounced quickly up and down beneath your desk, the steady rhythm keeping your bored mind on task. You didn’t realize the typical 9-5 job required so much  _ sitting _ . Your hip flexors were stiff more often than not. You figure you’re only a few short years away from limping like an old woman with a cane. 

“Hey, (y/n)!” said your coworker, Claudia as she entered your cubicle. Claudia’s laptop hummed loudly despite sitting closed in her arms. “Still good to go over the notes before we present in an hour?”

“Hey, Claudia,” you greeted back. You quickly looked back down at your computer to save your shared document. “Yeah perfect timing. I just finished revising the contracts. Do you mind reviewing it before next week’s trial?” 

Claudia nodded and scribbled down a reminder for herself. “Sure thing. Want to take this in the conference room?”

You nodded grabbing your laptop and followed Claudia’s lead. The two of you had been working together at Sunortap & Retto Law Firm for nearly 5 years. Claudia had 2 whole months seniority over you and she never let you forget it. She always took the lead on cases. You didn’t have a doubt as to who would be promoted to partner first, and you couldn’t help resenting her, _ just a little _ , for that. Besides all that internal drama, you quite liked Claudia. You worked well together. By this point, you knew each other‘s interrogation styles like the back of your hands. You found yourself fact checking things before Claudia even voiced them. Connections like that take time to develop and are heaps more valuable than any title change could be. It's why lawyers rarely changed jobs. 

You spent the next hour together brainstorming courtroom tactics before deciding. You came up with a great proposal to show the law firm’s partners, and felt confident they would approve your approach. 

***************

You yawned as you entered your apartment lobby. Another late night at the office. If you go straight to bed, you can still get a solid five hours sleep before you’re due back at work the next morning. 

The doorman looked up as you entered and smiled. He waved you over to him and the giant flower arrangement that sat next to him.  _ Oh please tell me those aren’t for me.  _

“Miss (l/n)! Good evening” your doorman, Rick, said. He was an older fellow, closing in on retirement, but was still quick as a whip.

“Hey, Rick” you greeted back with as much enthusiasm you could muster at 11:30 at night. “Slow night?”

“Oh, you know there’s never a slow night in New York City.” Rick said with a chuckle. 

You laughed with him, knowing the antics of the city could be wildly unpredictable. Who knows what poor Rick has put up with, this night alone. You made a mental note to tip him extra well next holiday season. 

“These came for you today” Rick said, motioning to the mass of flowers taking up half his desk. “From a Mr. ‘S’, apparently. Would you like any help taking it upstairs?”

_ Simmon again? Figures. Couldn’t he take no for an answer? _ You sighed quietly and gave Rick a smile. “I can handle it.” The damn bouquet weighed more than you thought it should, but you didn’t change your resolve. It was only a short walk to the elevators. This is what all those boot camp fitness classes you took have been leading up to! 

You got in the elevator and scowled at the flowers. Simmon thought you would forgive his indiscretions so easily? You broke it off with him the moment he confessed to cheating on you with his secretary. Apparently you hadn’t been very clear when you told him it was over. Simmon just keeps trying to apologize in increasingly impressive ways. You hoped he would grow tired of his game soon, before he did anything too embarrassing. 

You somehow managed to balance the heavy flowers with one hand while simultaneously unlocking the door. With a soft  _ click _ , your lock slid open and you made a beeline for the kitchen island. You placed the impossibly heavy flowers down and stretched the strained, curled shape your fingers stiffened into. 

“And what am I supposed to do with you?” You asked the flowers. The white orchids were expertly shaped so the whole thing looked like a perfect sphere of flowers. If you didn’t know who they were from, you might actually think the flower arrangement was pretty. 

You shook your head.  _ Nope, he’s still not forgiven.  _ Even as you promised yourself not to let this gift fool you, you leaned in and smelled. 

“Mmm…” they smelled heavenly. You closed your eyes and tilted a single orchid up to your nose. You could smell this all day. Maybe you should keep the arrangement. It would be a shame to let it go to waste. Besides, the flowers never did anything wrong to you.

Slowly the clean scent of orchid weakened, replaced with a much more sour smell.  _ Eww why’d the smell change? Guess I’ve been smelling them too long _ .

You stepped back from the bouquet but the smell got stronger still. You look quickly at the stove.  _ Is that a gas leak?! _ The smell is all you can think about as your senses are overwhelmed. You sniff around the kitchen, trying to find the source of the foul stench, but the smell seems to follow you around the room, growing in intensity. 

Bending down to sniff a drawer, your vision narrows and stars start dancing in your eyes.  _ I need to.. get… outside.  _ You feel lightheaded. 

Your balance tips and suddenly you collapse on your kitchen floor. The sight of an old, stale cheerio, long ago lost under the fridge was the last thing you saw before you passed out. 


	2. Awakening

You awoke to a pounding headache. The sour smell, still present, began dissipating with each new breath you took. Soon the smell was gone completely and your headache hurt less. Your nose had never known such offense. 

After a few seconds, you felt well enough to sit up. When no dizzying wave of nausea followed, you stood up and took stock of your surroundings. 

Shelves of dried plants, beakers with a plethora of colored liquids, and a bubbling cauldron to boot.  _ Toto, we’re not in Kansas anymore.  _

__ You looked around the room that could only be described as a witch’s den and wondered what on earth happened after you passed out. 

_ Am I kidnapped?  _ That would explain the change in scenery. You couldn’t think of anyone who wanted you hurt, however. Your current legal case was about cheerleader work hours, for goodness sake! You even had the full support of the opposing council. It’s not like you were defending dangerous criminals. 

_ A random serial killer then? _ You bit your lip. Well that’s not good either. 

You looked down, noticing for the first time the oversized black clothes you now had on. You’ve never seen anything quite like them. The sleeves were long and wide, bunching quickly when you raised your arms. It was a far cry from your normal power suit, but surprisingly comfortable. It also wasn’t what you remember passing out in. You hoped all the creepy scenarios of how  _ that _ happened were wrong. Maybe a friendly grandmother helped change you. 

A long stick was fastened to your arm in some sort of sheith. Curious, you pulled it out of the holder. It felt warm and alive in your hand, as if it were an old friend saying hello. You studied it, wondering why you woke up with a stick strapped to your arm. 

_ Wand. _

You jumped at the silently spoken word. Did you just think that? Because you were not entirely sure you did. You stay still, wondering if the strange thought had any more to say. You study this ‘wand’ with new eyes. It certainly  _ looked _ like wands you’d seen in movies. You supposed wand was as good a word as any for it. 

You inspected your arm holster. It was real leather, soft but strong. You know craftsmanship when you see it, and this wand holder fits the bill. It makes it seem important. Why would someone need to keep a wand handy?

_ I wonder if I can use it.  _ Your eyes light with mischief as you start to think of a spell. Something with a rhyme would work. It’d give the spell a little oomph… probably. You had no idea how a real wand worked. 

You point the wand at the cauldron in the center of the room and say,

“Bubble, bubble, toil and trouble  Turn this cauldron into rubble”

You add a wand flick to the end, hoping that will make the spell work. The cauldron remains, fully whole, mocking your sad excuse of a spell. You sigh.  _ Of course childish rhymes won’t crack a thick iron cauldron.  _ It was foolheartery to try. Magic wasn’t real. You couldn’t do spells any more than you could lift a bolder above your head. Whoever your serial killer is certainly has a weird way to kill.  _ Are they some kind of ultra-nerd fanatic? “If I’m about to get murdered by someone in a nonsense alien costume…” _

You wondered if you could at least use the ‘wand’ as a makeshift shiv and get outta here. It wasn’t sharp at the tip, but maybe you could break it a little. A big enough shard or two would do the trick.

_ Confringo. _

Your fingers pause in their destructive musings.  _ Was that the same voice as before? _ Maybe the voice wasn’t yours after all. Was it whispering the real spell? Couldn’t hurt to try it, ya know, just in case….

You pointed the wand back at the cauldron. “Confringo” you said, over-pronouncing the ‘r’, just like the voice had. 

The large stone cauldron exploded apart as if a bomb had gone off in its very center. You gave a strangled squeak and locked your gaze on the wand in awe. “Did I… just…” you trailed off, shaking your head. “No, no of course not. There has to be a scientific explanation for that. Maybe the cauldron was weak to begin with. A black goo sizzled out of the rubble, turning green and hardening.  _ I wonder what other spells I could try.  _

Suddenly the doors burst open, a concerned Draco Malfoy scanning the room for danger before settling on you.

WAIT. 

You blink. You rub your eyes.  _ Nope, he’s really standing there _ .  _ Draco Malfoy. Is. In front. Of you.  _

He makes his way over to you with a scowl on his face. “What happened to this one, Granger? You assured me this would be a safe brew if you used the dementor dust. That stuff isn’t easy to find, you know. You said you were sure.”

You kept staring at him in disbelief. Here was Draco Malfoy, in the flesh. Not in a book, not in a movie, but real. You took a step forward, hand outstretched, hoping to prove he wasn’t real. There’s no way he’d feel solid. Your hand connected with his chest, very much hard and very much real. 

“...Granger?” Malfoy asked. You pulled your hand away, realizing you were lingering. 

“Why are you calling me Granger?” You ask and then gasped. “Wait, as in  _ Hermione _ Granger??” You take a good look at yourself. It was hard to tell much of anything with the heavy black clothing you wore obscuring most of your body. Well, you supposed if you were somehow in the Harry Potter universe, you were wearing wizard robes. 

You touched your face and could feel the flushed skin there. Your body didn’t  _ feel _ any different. Touching alone wasn’t helpful in figuring out what you looked like. You needed to see yourself properly. A mirror would be best.

Your hair cascaded around your face. It was thick, impossibly bushy, and nothing at all like your real hair. Your eyes widened in shock. 

Draco watched your freak out with interest. Deciding you were finished, he asked you cooly, “Well then, if not ‘Granger,’ what should I call you?” 

“(y/n).” 

“Okay  _ (y/n), _ what happened here? Why is my best cauldron laying in a thousand pieces and embedded in the walls?”

You bit your lip.  _ Well this got awkward fast. _ Coming clean about what you did to his cauldron could wait. And, well, if it never happened to come up again you would be a-okay with that too. 

“...Just to be sure,” you begin, looking him square on, “you’re… not here to  _ kill me?” _

Malfoy’s eyebrows raised and then furrowed. “Still assuming the worst of me, Granger?” He sneered. “I must admit, the fear of me is a bit much, even for you. I already gave you access to my labs- my ingredients. I don’t know a request I  _ haven't _ granted you. When are you going to come around? I can only be patient with you so long.”

“Yeah, I’m still not Granger. I’m (y/n). Save all that emotion for the real deal.” 

“And how do you explain your appearance,  _ ‘(y/n)’ _ ? She doesn’t have any siblings, so long lost twin is out. Polyjuice potion perhaps?” His eyes narrowed. 

“I’m honestly not sure what happened. Last thing I remember is smelling my flower bouquet. Next thing I know, I’m waking up here, in a fantasy world, looking like Hermione Granger.”

“That’s all? You smelled some flowers and now you possess a new body? Sounds like hogs walash to me.” Malfoy crossed his arms, clearly not believing you. 

“Well, it’s true” you pouted. “I really don’t know why -or  _ how- _ I’m here. You’re not even supposed to be real.”

“I can assure you, I’m quite real. As real as I was when you punched me in the face in third year.” The famous Malfoy smirk began tugging at his lips, drawing your attention there. He took a step forward, and another. You kept stepping backwards, matching his place. Soon your back collided with the wall. Malfoy placed one hand next to your head, the other coming to rest on the shelf that helped box you in. “Or… perhaps you were thinking of a different time. Like last week… in the broom closet.”

You gasp. Were Hermione and Malfoy dating? Despite the amount of Dramione fanfiction you’ve read, you didn’t expect them to actually get together.  _ I wonder if this hallucination is canon.  _

“I- I… no! I don’t remember that!” You said, your cheeks flaming. “Like I said, I’m not-”

Draco’s lips silence your drabble as they descend on yours. His kisses are hungrier than any you’ve ever experienced, and you find your lips moving with his, returning the kiss. It felt like electricity was thrumming between you everywhere touched. 

Draco stepped closer, holding you against the wall with his body. His hands came in to roam across your body. One hand cupped your neck and tilted your head back so he could kiss you deeper. The other hand coming to rest on your hip, rubbing slowly up to your waist and back down. 

_ Hermione’s waist.  _ You curse silently, not wanting this fantasy-come-true to end. You couldn’t in good faith keep making out with someone’s boyfriend, even if by all accounts you _ were _ that someone. 

You gently push his chest and break the kiss. “Wait,” You tried, breathlessly. He leans in for more anyways, not believing your feeble attempts at stopping. You turn your head away but Draco takes it as an opportunity to kiss his way down your neck.

_ Wow.  _

__ No, not wow. This is Hermione’s boyfriend, not yours. “Draco wait, I’m not Hermione. I really am (y/n).” 

Draco finally stopped kissing your neck and looked into your eyes with puzzlement. This close, you could stare deeply into his eyes. You gasped. “Your eyes…” You leaned in closer, inspecting each eye.

His eyes were yellow with large black slit pupils. Were they like that before? You couldn’t remember, but you thought they were grey when he walked in. Gazing into them caused your stomach to flutter. He gave you butterflies. 

“I could say the same about you,” he said, fascinated in much the same way as you. Were your eyes yellow slits too? Why did JK Rowling leave out that a wizards’ eyes transform after a good make out session? She hoped there weren’t any more surprises Rowling edited out. 

“My eyes?” You asked, furrowing your brow. “Are they yellow like yours?”

“No. They’re (e/c). I distinctly remember, Granger has maple brown eyes.” His own striking yellow ones narrowed as he began taking you in. His suspicious gaze was making you squirm. 

“My eyes have always been (e/c), ever since I was a kid.” Did your true eyes follow you here? So just your consciousness and eyes came with?  _ Couldn’t have sprung for the complete transfer, universe? _ Instead, you were gonna be stuck as Hermione until you reversed whatever spell it is.  _ If _ you could reverse it. 

***********

“Who exactly are you, (y/n)?” Draco growled. “And where is the real Granger?” His eyes were laser focused on you. His gaze felt like lead on your skin until you looked into his eyes. 

Memories start flashing one after the other. Eating lunch with some classmates. Studying for your BAR exam. Your first court win. And your first loss. 

Finally the memory whiplash slows. It’s the moments leading up to the fainting spell that brought you here. The bouquet is heavy in your arms. The foul smell grows powerful, even in your memory.

“No! Please, not the smell!” It leaves your lips before you even realize. The memory abruptly ends and Draco is holding you, running soothing strokes down your back. 

“Ssh, it’s okay. It’s over. I now know you’re who you say you are, (y/n).” You allow yourself to be coddled for a moment while the memory of that smell dissipated. 

Draco’s warm body did wonders to sooth your fried nerves. You wanted to relax into him, maybe touch his chest again. Maybe this time… with your tongue. 

_ Woah woah! Calm down, Hermione’s body! You’ll get all you want once I’m back in my own body.  _ You tried reasoning with her (your?) body. Apparently it wanted Malfoy, regardless of which soul held the reins. Your pleas were of course ignored by the treacherous body you found yourself in, as it started relaxing into his arms. Just like you told it not to. 

He smelled heavenly. Somewhere between apple pie and fresh sheets. You inhaled deeply. The lingering bed memories faded away the more you breathed in his scent. 

You look up into his strange, yellow eyes and feel butterflies in your stomach. That seemed to happen a lot around him. 

“Did you just invade my mind?” You asked, surprising you both. His scowl is enough of an answer. You push him away, no longer comforted by his embrace. “You can’t just do that!” You take a step away from him. “I have rights, you know. And I’m sure they apply here.” You didn’t really know if there were laws against that kind of magic, but you felt so violated, you sure hoped so. 

“There are…” Draco said carefully, “but they don’t apply to  _ mates.” _

Mates? As in friends? That was an odd loophole. You were pretty sure English accents called friends ‘mates.’ Or maybe that was just Australia? You needed to get out more. 

“Well seeing as how this is our first meeting, calling us ‘friends’ is putting the cart before the horse, don’t you think? No way that’d hold up in court.” Once a lawyer, always a lawyer. Even if you didn’t know the laws, you could still use logic and reason to fight your battles. 

Draco smirked. “Oh, wouldn’t it? Because the way  _ I  _ see it, Hermione Granger has been living with  _ me _ under  _ my _ roof for months. She’s been employed by  _ me _ for years. Even the Daily Prophet has been known to write an article or two about our secret love affair from time to time. Sounds very  _ friendly _ to me.” Apparently, logic wasn’t as effective as you thought. 

“That was all Hermione! None of that applies to me. I’ll just explain the situation. Maybe they can even help me get back to my own body.”

**“No.”** The force with which he spoke sent tingles up your spine. You ignored your rental body’s reaction and put your hands on your hips. 

“Wh-” 

**“Come.”** His arms spread open for you to enter. You felt weightless, staring into his eyes and took a step forward. The corner of his mouth twitched upwards with the beginnings of a smirk. 

That broke you out of your stupor.  _ Was that magic? _ He was using magic on you! Again! You made a split second decision. This whole situation was dangerous. He was dangerous. 

You spun gracefully on one heel and bolted from the room. Having no idea where you were, you chose a random direction and sprinted down an ornate hallway. Your eyes were working overtime processing all the doors and windows. 

A terrible roar came from behind you. It was deep, scary, and assuredly not-human. You didn’t dare slow down or try to decipher what it was. Your adrenaline filled brain only had room for one problem: getting out of here. 

You supposed it was Malfoy Manor, with how big and ornate it was. Even the hallways you raced down were well decorated. Tasteful paintings filled the walls. You even passed the occasional bust, not that you took time to appreciate any of it as you wheezed by. Apparently Hermione wasn’t much of a runner. You had only been running for a minute before your lungs ached. 

Was that even Draco in there? You supposed with enough magic, even a terrible monster could disguise itself as a human. Wizard.  _ Ugg, none of this makes sense! _

Wait, of course! You could use magic to get yourself out of this mess. You checked your sleeve without slowing down. It was still there! You pulled out the wand you had used to destroy the cauldron earlier. 

“If you… can talk…” you huffed at the wand, “please… I need… a.. spell.” Your lungs were burning. You didn’t have any air to spare on talking. 

The monster roared again, this time sounding like it was gaining on you fast. You looked desperately around, hoping to find an exit and coming up short. 

_ Carpe Retractum.  _

You don’t hesitate. “Carpe retractum!” You repeat aloud, having no idea what it did. Suddenly your wand jerked you forward, flinging you down the halls with apparent purpose. Your feet didn’t touch the ground as the wand stuck fast to your hand. It was much faster than your running had been. You really hoped it was taking you to the exit. 

Abruptly the wand stopped pulling you and gravity returned. You fell gracelessly back to the ground. You groaned but now wasn’t the time to complain. 

You looked around but didn’t see anything that looked like an exit. The room looked a bit like a foyer, but instead of a door, a tall fireplace took center stage. Odd. Why did the wand bring you here? Was there something special about this room?

It was hard to think with your heart beating in your ears. Knowing the monster chasing you couldn’t be far behind, you began circling the room. 

“Any hints, wand?” You asked, hoping for another of its helpful spells. 

Nothing. The wand sat silent in your hand.  _ Well that wasn’t much help.  _ You look around the room, noticing for the first time there was only one way in or out of the room. If Malfoy caught you here, you’d be trapped. Great. 

The wand in your hand felt too good- too  _ right  _ to be plotting against you. It must have brought you here for a reason. “Think, (y/n)! Think!”

A foyer with a fireplace for a door. Your eyes lit up. “It’s a floo!” You raced over to it, inspecting it. No wonder the fireplace was so tall. 

A tiny bowl of loose, green powder sat nearby.  _ Floo powder, perfect. _

You hear the monster nearing, the sound of heavy wings beating steadily. You certainly weren’t about to stick around to find out if Malfoy somehow sprouted wings. 

You grabbed a handful of floo powder and quickly stepped into the hearth.  _ Where to? _

Draco came into view then. He was flying towards you with wings sprouting from his back. The yellow of his eyes practically glowed as they found your (e/c) ones. Even his face structure seemed changed- sharper. 

The creature screamed indignantly as it noticed where you were. 

“Diagonally!” You shout the first place that pops into your mind and drop the floo powder. Green flames tickled up your rented body and you were gone.


End file.
